


Hunted

by AlexKingOfTheDamned, swimsalot



Category: Wolverine And The X-Men (Cartoon)
Genre: Character Turned Into Vampire, Church Sex, M/M, Rimming, Rough Sex, Vampire Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-30
Updated: 2014-09-30
Packaged: 2018-02-19 08:29:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2381711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexKingOfTheDamned/pseuds/AlexKingOfTheDamned, https://archiveofourown.org/users/swimsalot/pseuds/swimsalot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt has been turned into a vampire on "Vampire Island" and nobody can track him down. They send in Logan, he's the man's best friend. Surely he'll be able to lure him out of hiding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hunted

**Author's Note:**

> My apologies for the shitty title. 
> 
> For those of you who don't know, there is actually a canon place in Marvel called Vampire Island, and it's not an amusement park. 
> 
> Also, I hope you like bottom!Logan because I sure as tits do

 

Logan is going to kill this kid.

 

He's spent five hours on this godforsaken island looking for Kurt and nothing has come of it. He's seen neither hide nor hair of the younger mutant. Even his heightened senses haven't been any help.

 

What kind of idiot gets himself turned into a vampire and then won't stay put so his friends can find him? What is he doing anyway? Sure he's got to be scared and hungry but he should know better than to keep running around so no one can find him.

 

Grumbling to himself Logan sits down on a pew in the cathedral. There's got to be an easier way than trying to follow Kurt's scattered scent around the island. Maybe he can bring the vampire to him. It's all a matter of finding something he wants. And there's only one thing a new, starving vampire will be after.

 

"Damn elf better be grateful," he says, scowling at the ground as he extends his claws. He doesn't even flinch as he sinks all three deep into his thigh to get them dripping with his blood before the cuts heal over.

 

The blood drips from his claws and puddles on the ground. The smell is powerful, with his heightened sense of smell it’s nauseating. He wrinkles his nose and tries not to breathe too loudly, listening for the younger man.

 

He’s silent for a couple minutes. The blood has gone cold by now. Maybe he wasn’t close enough to smell it. Logan curses under his breath, he suffered the cuts for nothing.

 

He’s just about to stand up off the pew when he hears the familiar crack of Kurt’s teleporting somewhere in the high, high rafters overhead. It echoes through the empty stone cathedral, bouncing off the walls, and then Logan can smell him. He smells terrified.

 

"Hey elf. I know you're there," Logan says, not looking up at where he knows Kurt is watching him. "Why don't you come down here and we can talk?"

 

He hears Kurt exhale loudly, and when he inhales, his breath hitches twice. The cloudy crack is heard again, and the smell of sulfur gets stronger when he ‘ports nearer. When Logan whirls around to look at the pews behind him, all he sees is a wisp of smoke as another crack echoes through the room.

 

Suddenly he gets the ice-cold feeling that he’s being _hunted_.

 

"Shit," he growls, instinctively falling into a fighting stance. He doesn't want to hurt the kid but he has no intention of being attacked by the man he's supposed to be rescuing.

 

"Kurt, I'm not here to hurt you. Don't make me," he warns, his voice filling the otherwise quiet cathedral. "Just come out and we'll talk about getting you home."

 

He hears a whine somewhere in the darkness. Another crack, and he turns his head for the source, but the teleporter is already gone again.

 

Standing stock still in the pew, Logan’s head whips around as he tries desperately to track the other man’s movements. He doesn’t have his claws out, he doesn’t want to resort to that yet (at all) but he’s rigid and ready to tussle if he has to.

 

The smell is getting so powerful it’s starting to disorient him. He can’t track him by scent, he’s puffing clouds all over the place. He can’t track him by sound, either, the cathedral walls distort the noise.

 

And then suddenly the loudest crack of all, and Kurt is crouched on the narrow back of the pew. Logan doesn’t even have time to inhale before the other man pounces him.

 

His first instinct is to fight, to throw him off and run, but Kurt isn’t attacking him. In fact, he’s not really doing anything. He knocked Logan back into a seating position in the pew, and he’s sitting on his lap, _nuzzling_ his throat. He’s making soft, breathy noises that sound remarkably like a purr as he sifts his long pointed nose through the hair on Logan’s neck and jaw, and he whispers in a rough voice,

 

“ _You smell good._ ”

 

It shouldn't be as arousing as it is. Logan tries not to think about the way Kurt is nuzzling and breathing on his neck and how good it feels to have him right here in his lap. Instead he focuses on the unnatural coldness of him and the scent of sulfur and wrongness that clings to the new vampire.

 

"Kurt come on. I know I probably smell like a fucking steak dinner but we have to go home," he says, trying to push the younger man away without hurting him.

 

He can’t budge him. Coldness seeps through Logan’s body like an icy brand. He can’t _move_ him. He’s twice the guy’s size and stronger that humans his own size by at least four times, and he can’t move the damn elf. He heard about the vampire strength thing, but this is personal, and terrifying.

 

He pushes harder but Kurt doesn’t even flinch. He tries twisting away, pulling to the side to get his neck away from Kurt's mouth but the vampire holds him fast and he barely gets half an inch of space between them. He needs to find a way to get through to Kurt and get him to see reason but the man is thinking with his stomach now, animal instincts completely in control. Reasoning with him won't work and fighting will only make it worse.

 

Best thing he can do is give him what he wants.

 

Sighing, Logan extends one claw and brings the blade up to his neck, just beneath his ear. He makes a small incision, enough to get a few drops of blood out before it starts to heal over.

 

Kurt’s eyes widen. The scent fills his nose and sinks through his body. All the short fur on his body stands up on end, and when his tongue darts out to lap up the blood, he shudders bodily from head to toe. He moans out loud and purses his lip to the tiny cut, sucking another couple drops out before it closes up completely.

 

The taste is electrifying. He whines loudly and rocks against Logan desperately. He can’t think or judge, all rationality and good sense has left him. His thighs tremble, parted by the width of Logan’s lap, and he pants open-mouthed against his throat.

 

"You want more you're going to have to get it yourself, I'm not doing all the work for you. We'll talk when you're done and closer to sane than you are now," Logan growls. He tilts his head to one side, inviting Kurt to take a bite.

 

Kurt wouldn’t have stopped himself even if he _could_ think rationally. He closes his mouth over Logan’s throat, his teeth sink easily into his skin. The mutant under him gives a grunt and his body seizes up in shock, but he doesn’t let him try to get away.

 

Both of his hands tangle into Logan’s hair, holding his head put while he gulps down his burning hot blood. It makes him feel warm and healthy, it makes his whole body feel alive. He vibrates with energy, moaning wetly through thick mouthfuls as he soaks Logan’s blood into his body.

 

His hips twitch of their own accord, his prick swelling with Logan’s blood, and he grinds it against the larger man’s solid core, providing friction and sensation to his awakening body.

 

It shouldn't feel as good as it does but that doesn't stop Logan from groaning in pleasure. There isn't any pain after the initial piercing, just the sense of something being drawn out of him and something else that has his head spinning and his whole body suddenly feeling more sensitive than before. He knows it isn't from blood-loss; his blood regenerates too quickly for that. So it must be something Kurt is doing.

 

And whatever it is, Logan approves. Whole-heartedly.

 

Kurt whines against Logan’s throat, keeping his fangs solidly planted in his neck to keep the punctures from closing up. He swallows loudly, gulping down air with it he’s swallowing so fast. It hurts his stomach a little, but he won’t stop yet.

 

His tail curls around Logan’s ankle and he groans out loud when the older man’s arms wrap around his slender waist. He rolls his hips harder, with a little more purpose now that his sense is returning to him as the blood fills out his veins and arteries.

 

Releasing Logan’s neck with a slick popping sound, Kurt leans back just far enough to burp the air he swallowed into his fist. He hiccups and groans and rocks his hips down again before nudging Logan’s neck in the opposite direction and nosing at his pulse again.

 

"Fuck, just bite already. I know you're still hungry. I can smell it on you," Logan snaps.

 

And Kurt does exactly that. Long, slightly curved fangs pierce his flesh again, drawing out another gasp of pain and groan of pleasure as the vampire begins swallowing down mouthfuls of warm, fresh blood again.

 

Logan's cock has begun to perk up in interest as the pleasure flowing through him begins to really take hold and he grinds back against Kurt's answering arousal, urging the younger man on.

 

He drinks his fill, panting through his nose and moaning loudly. His voice echoes through the smoky cathedral, bouncing off the walls and into Logan’s ears threefold. When he finally slips his fangs out after his body feels full and replenished, he licks at the punctures and savors the last biting, coppery taste of his blood before they seal over completely.

 

Kurt whimpers against his neck, shame and excitement filling him at the same time. His toes curl and he presses his face against Logan’s throat. The fact that they’ve done this, in a church no less, the fact that he wants to continue – it doesn’t actually make him feel as ashamed as it rightly should.

 

He wraps his arms around the bigger man’s shoulders and doesn’t spare a moment of thought before he presses his bloody mouth against Logan’s.

 

He tastes like copper, like Logan is sucking on a new penny. It isn't exactly a bad taste, but it is a little jarring to know he's tasting his own blood on someone else's tongue. Yet Logan makes no move to break the kiss.

 

Kurt is warmer now and smells a little bit like Logan, like his natural scent and whatever phermones of Logan's can be found in his blood have mixed together, combining their scents in a heady mixture that has the older man growling with pure, animalistic possessiveness.

 

The teleporter pulls back far enough to look Logan in the eyes. He licks across the older man’s lower lip to collect the faint taste of blood. The men share another long, quiet, heated stare, but right as Logan opens his mouth to ask if Kurt is done, his back is suddenly slammed against the pew cushion faster than he can even blink.

 

He’s not used to being manhandled so easily, especially not by someone so much smaller than him. But Kurt is on him like a wild animal, nipping at his throat again and his shoulder, digging fingers into Logan’s shirt and grinding against him with a snarl.

 

“Logan,” he groans, his voice hoarse and heavy, thick with something between lust and an apology.

 

"Fuck, Kurt," Logan growls back. He grips the other man tightly, pressing up against him to get more friction against his clothed, aching prick. "Do whatever you want just stop being a tease."

 

Kurt wedges his hands down between their bodies and rips Logan’s belt. He doesn’t open it, he _rips_ it. Logan can’t even voice his displeasure before his mouth is overtaken by Kurt’s tongue again as his jeans are yanked open.

 

The teleporter’s hand is a little cold when he jams it down into Logan’s jeans, his two-fingered hand wrapping tightly around his cock. He growls into Logan’s mouth, a noise close to possessive, and bites at his tongue and lips.

 

“I vant to fuck you,” he growls into Logan’s throat, biting hard enough to nick the skin and licking away the drop of blood.

 

Logan starts to protest but Kurt's grip tightens around him ever so slightly, effectively turning his argument into a pleased groan. He tries again only to be silenced once more by Kurt's fangs skating over the tender flesh over his collarbone, opening a small incision that the younger man seals his lips around, sucking out what blood he can before the cut heals over.

 

"Fuck, fine. Alright," he finally gasps, closing his eyes in shame. "Whatever you want."

 

He’s flipped over on his belly on the pew, his cock crushed against old velvet cushions. Goosebumps raise over his legs as his jeans are yanked down to his knees. This is moving way faster than he thought it would – he thought the guy would have some convictions about fucking in a church, he’s the religious one after all.

 

But apparently, Kurt is more than comfortable with his sexuality, because before he can even turn to look over his shoulder at the other man, he feels his tongue between his cheeks.

 

"Shit!" Logan cries out before jamming his fist into his mouth to silence himself. He'd been expecting fingers, hard and long and maybe wet with spit. Not Kurt's warm, damp tongue licking at his hole, soaking the pucker with saliva before poking teasingly, almost gently, at the muscle to gain better access.

 

Kurt’s fingers are a strange experience. They’re very, very long, and they seem to have an extra knuckle, and they’re covered in the same velvety fuzz as the rest of his body. They’re warm and sticky as they probe into him, curling against his insides. With only two fingers on his hand, Logan shouts into his fist as half of Kurt’s palm slides into him after his fingers.

 

He’s practically fisting the larger man, and a shudder wracks Logan as he wonders how big Kurt’s cock is if he thinks he needs to slip almost his whole hand inside Logan to prepare him.

 

Strings of curses run through his mind though none make it out of his mouth. He pants and groans and shouts into his fist but never forms a coherent word as Kurt opens him up, his hand and abnormally long fingers reaching deeper into him than Logan ever could have imagined possible.

 

The other mutant finds his prostate with ease and practically has Logan screaming into the cushion as he massages the sensitive nerves. He bites so hard into his fist he draws blood and he knows the scent of it must be driving Kurt crazy.

 

Trapped by his own constricting jeans, Logan can only thrust helplessly against the cushions, his cock leaking across the velvet. He gives a bark of protest when Kurt’s hand leaves him, but then he takes in a breath so deep his lungs ache when he hears the zipper of Kurt’s suit open, and the teleporter’s cock sinks into him.

 

It’s barely wet, saliva isn’t good for too much, but Logan has always enjoyed an edge of pain to his encounters. Unlike the rest of his body, Kurt’s prick is completely smooth and hairless, and it glides through Logan’s insides like a brand. It radiates heat, pulsing, unnaturally long and only just thick enough to burn just so.

 

Kurt gives a beastial growl, low and rough and vibrating in his chest as he bottoms out, every inch of him sheathed inside the larger man.

 

He pauses, reveling in the feeling of Logan round him as he catches his breath and prepares to start fucking the man in earnest. But Logan doesn't give him the chance. Desperate and impatient Logan starts to rock forward and back on his own, fucking himself on Kurt's impossibly long prick.

 

Kurt lets out a low growl of surprise, his hands digging into the cushions as he grounds himself and lets Logan have his way for a few moments. It’s intensely sensual, watching Logan move himself forcefully to get the stimulation he craves. He’s so into it, it doesn’t seem to occur to him to ask Kurt to move.

 

Kurt’s tail slips into Logan’s jeans and works one of the legs down off over his boot, the other still wrapped around his knee, and it frees one of his feet that he plants on the stone floor. With a wider range to work with, Kurt’s hands move from the cushions over Logan’s head to his waist, his fingers digging in as he finally starts to fuck him properly, with all the new strength he possesses.

 

Logan’s been fucked once or twice. He’s not brand new at this. But he’s never been fucked _this hard_.

 

Kurt fucks him like his life depends on it. Every ounce of strength he possess he pours into the punishing thrusts into Logan's body, fucking him hard enough for the older man to feel it throughout his whole body. His bones rattle with the force of the thrusts and if he could bruise he's sure his entire backside would be black and blue already.

 

It’s so _good_. So good that Logan can't even begin to complain. Instead he bites down into his hand hard enough to tear at skin and muscle. It hurts enough that he lets go of his fist, choosing instead to bite into the cushion beneath his head to try to keep quiet, hoping to preserve some of his dignity. It's probably a lost cause, given the way the sound of flesh against flesh is ringing through out the church.

 

Kurt growls louder and wraps his fingers up in Logan’s thick hair. He yanks back, forcing the man’s mouth open with the angle, and grins when the barks of pleasure he’s been holding in pour out of him in staccato shouts.

 

“Don’t quiet yourself,” Kurt commands in a low snarl, his voice rough and huffing. “I vant to _hear_ your screams.”

 

" _Fuck!_ " Logan growls, trying to keep his teeth clenched to hold in his shouts of pleasure. It does him no good. Kurt's grip on his hair gives him new leverage as he pounds into the older man, allowing him to grind deeper because Logan can't shift away.

He starts to move faster, deep penetrating thrusts coming more and more quickly as they get closer to their completion. Without anything to silence him Logan shouts his pleasure into the empty church space, filling the high vaulted ceiling with his voice, rough and husky from lovemaking. He curses and cries out Kurt's name, demands to be fucked harder and faster and rougher and every word echoes in the empty chamber as if taunting him with his own desperation.

 

They can both smell other vampires on the island who draw near out of curiosity and linger outside the chapel, but they don’t enter. It prickles Kurt’s skin to know he has an audience, even a distant one. Pride surges through him, they can hear Logan, they can hear what he’s _doing_ to Logan.

 

He comes only a few seconds before the other man, snarling through clenched fangs. He drops to Logan’s back and sinks his teeth into his shoulder, growling like a ferocious cat as he rolls his hips through the intense waves of his orgasm.

 

Logan gives one last shout as he comes, staining the pew cushion with evidence of what they've done. His hips jerk back and his whole body shakes with the intensity of it but he manages to hold back any more shameful noises.

 

His arms give out as the last wave pass and he collapses in the sticky mess he made on the seat, taking Kurt down with him.

 

They lie tangled together for a few moments. Kurt suckles at Logan’s shoulder, growling softly under his breath, his tail wrapped comfortingly around the man’s ankle. He slips his teeth out of the muscle of Logan’s shoulder and licks at the wounds until they close.

 

Rest his forehead on the nape of Logan’s neck, he gives a breathy chuckle. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, still buried to the hilt inside his best friend and softening.

 

"For what? Turning me into some kind of protein shake or fucking me hard enough to almost break this goddamn bench?" Logan asks, sneering into the pew cushion. "Because I told you to do both."

 

Kurt gives a breathy chuckle. “Yes, that,” he mumbles hoarsely. “Though… it could have been worse.”

 

“Worse?” Logan rumbles.

 

Kurt giggles softly. “I could have turned you.”


End file.
